The Self and Confucianism by Arthur Dobrin A teacher once asked her students, "What is the most important religious question?" One student said, "Does God exist?", "Who is God?" another asked. The third responded, "What is the path of God?" "Is there life after death?" another wanted to know. "No," the teacher replied to each. "The most important question is, 'Who am I?'" This anecdote may seem lifted straight from a guide to New Age religion with its emphasis upon the self. Such a question can easily lead down the path of self-indulgence, quietism and personal salvation indifferent to the fate of the larger community. But when "Who am I?" is answered from a non-western perspective, the question leads to answers of ever-deepening revelations. Most religions in the West ask their adherents to consider the nature of God and what God wants of them. The three great religions of China - Confucianism, Taosim and Buddhism - start not with God but with people. "Who am I?" becomes the essential spiritual question. That spirituality is closer to religious humanism than to theistic religions. Humanism, whether religious or secular, starts from the position that this is the only life we can be certain of and therefore we had better use it wisely, for there may not be any other. Once supernatural concerns have been set aside, matters regarding the nature of God become secondary to issues concerning how to live our lives on this planet. Religious questions are no longer God-centered but Earth-centered. Of course, all religions at their best turn people back to living life in the here and now, but for Confucianism in particular, it is the only way to live. "Who am I?" becomes, "Who am I, this one person amongst a billion, this one individual in a long line who has come before, this one creature amongst thousands of other species? What do I need to do to live my life with purpose? What must I do in order to be happy? How do I best relate to the human community and the world in which I live?" Traditionally religion in the West has its sights set on God. The natural world conforms to the God-given. To know God is to know the human condition. Here theology (the knowledge of God) is an intellectual pursuit. Having laid aside the pursuit of knowledge of God, humanists are left with matters of anthropology (the knowledge of the human).For a person from the Confucianist/Taoist/Buddhist tradition, the question, Who am I? is inseparable from a related question, namely, What does it mean to be human? By understanding the most basic of life's questions this way leads to answering the question very differently than it is often answered in more conventional religious circles. For that person the spiritual pursuit isn't the quest of a solitary individual but of a social being. To be human makes sense only when we understand that to be human means to be part of the natural and human community. Tu Wei-Ming, in Confucian Thought: Selfhood As Creative Transformation (Ref.1), explains the moral universe of East Asia when he writes that self-knowledge "that is concerned with truly personal experience is not at all private to the individual; self-knowledge is a form of inner experience precisely because it resonates with the inner experiences of others. Accordingly, internality is not a solipsistic state but a concrete basis of communication." The most common approach to spirituality in the modern world is framed in individualistic terms. The unstated assumption of the western world is that the universe begins and ends with the individual and because each person undeniably experiences the world in his or her own uniqueness, each is utterly different from other human beings. This individualistic turn of thought, which can be traced back through Christianity's emphasis upon personal salvation, is expressed through the endless line of self-help books and the unquestioned assumptions of therapeutic psycho-talk. It is an expression in the increasing turning inward towards culture and away from politics; it is entertainment in place of community. Of course football games begin with prayers and religious revivals are held in stadiums; of course mega-church services and concerts are nearly indistinguishable. However, underneath this negation of community is another current. The latest work in the fields of biology, psychology, anthropology and sociology all points to the same direction. Human beings are social creatures by nature, at once like other higher order animals but different. We also know that we, each of us, are at once like every other human being but at the same time distinctively and uniquely like no other. Christian fundamentalists often say that if humans are part of a long chain of evolution so that we are cousins to the apes, then we are reducible to the apes. There is no logical reason why this is so. To know that one thing comes from another is not to say that one thing is the other. We all issue from our parents. While we are like them in many respects, we are also not like them in other ways. So too with our place in the natural world. But once having said that we are part of the natural world, we assume certain responsibilities to it, just as we have certain obligations in regard to our parents. Acknowledging this connection to the natural world brings to many, me included, a sense of belonging that issues from relatedness. I am not an alien in this world; I am part of the world. The deeper I contemplate my place in the natural universe the more humble I become, the more respectful I become, the more I experience the sense of awe and at-oneness that the more traditionally inclined call the religious experience.